


Correspondence

by thundercaya



Series: The Workplace Warzone [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emails, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: No one else makes Thomas Jefferson laugh like this.





	

Thomas Jefferson loved everything about France--the food, the music, the people, the atmosphere. He felt like he belonged there, and it would be easy to forget he was really an American if it weren’t for the fact that he worked for the American government. He took his job very seriously and completed his duties to the best of his abilities, but when he wasn’t working he preferred not to think about America, and so he wasn’t very pleased when he began receiving emails from one up and coming American by the name of James Madison.

Jefferson had at first been annoyed by the frequency at which Madison sent him emails, that was until he actually bothered to read one. He had--most likely at the intention of the sender--misread the subject line “A matter of natural importance” as “A matter of national importance.” Thus was his reading comprehension first thing in the morning. He had opened the email, ready to fire one back lecturing the man on sending such information via unsecured accounts. What he found instead was a three-page pee joke that had Jefferson rolling. He replied--finally, and soon they were exchanging jokes, summaries of their days, and photographs of themselves. Now, instead of finding Madison annoying, he found it unfair that someone could be so hilarious, so handsome, and so… not here.

Of course this feeling of wanting to see Madison in person and perhaps do more than look at him didn't necessarily have strong feelings behind it, at least not at first. It wasn't that Jefferson had no standards for who he slept with, but rather that they were standards that were easily met. Anyone mildly attractive with whom Jefferson and a good rapport was welcome in his bed, and Madison certainly qualified.

It wasn't until a particularly amazing email--one detailing Madison's first visit to to home of Alexander Hamilton--that Jefferson began to think he might be feeling something other than baseline attraction. He kept replaying his favorite parts in his head for days. The emphatic manner in which Madison opened the email--“Thomas, holy FUCK!”--his description of Hamilton's personality-- “I always thought the phrase motormouth referred to a mouth that was powered by a motor, but I think you could power a motor with his mouth”--and finally, the game he played with Hamilton's children: “So then I thought to myself, what would I do if the floor were actually lava? And I decided to let it kill me. Hamilton didn't think it was age-appropriate, but I figure the kids will learn about death at some point.” Jefferson knew about Hamilton from several sources--the news, Washington, Gilbert, and even Hamilton’s own sister-in-law Angelica--but no one’s account was more entertaining than Madison’s.

More than ever Jefferson longed to see Madison in person. They had met before--brief meetings with no meaning--back in Virginia, but he hadn’t known at the time the sense of humor that was behind that blank expression. Now that he was aware of it, Jefferson wondered what Madison looked and sounded like telling a funny story. Wondered if he kept that neutral expression, not betraying the comedic undertone of his words, or if laughter threatened to leak out at any moment, or if it rolled out so forcefully that there was barely room left for words. He wanted to hear Madison tell a story in person, to see Madison’s eyes light up, to watch his lips move. God, those eyes, those lips. In every selfie that Madison sent him, and every photograph that Jefferson uncovered himself from the internet. Those eyes. Those lips.

Thomas Jefferson loved everything about France--the food, the music, the people, the atmosphere--but it never felt so far from home as when he thought about James Madison.


End file.
